Of Homes and Families
by DachderWelt
Summary: "Ziva paced up and down in the empty room, around the table, casting sideward glances at the surveillance cameras. She hated waiting, hated being here. What exactly did they want from her?" After Somalia, Ben-Gidon fails his mission to bring Ziva back to Israel and Director Eli David is not pleased. So he orders him to "bring Ziva home" with or without her consent. Starts in 7x04
1. Prolog

Welcome to my new story.

I always loved scenes which contain some interaction of Ziva and Eli David. Unfortunately there aren't many in the show but some of them are fantastic and some are… not. Especially the reconciliation in Enemies domestic is much too fast and smooth for my liking. So I decided to write some more about their troubled father-daughter-relationship.

However the story starts way before it, in 7.04 Good Cop Bad Cop

English isn't my first language, I hope you will forgive my spelling mistakes or struggle with the right tenses (why can't it be easy…)

Of course, nothing is mine, I don't own NCIS

Have fun

* * *

 _"Ziva paced up and down in the empty room, around the table, casting sideward glances at the surveillance cameras. She hated waiting, hated being here. What exactly did they want from her?"_

After Somalia, Ben-Gidon fails his mission to bring Ziva back to Israel and Director Eli David is not pleased. So he orders him to "bring Ziva home" with or without her consent. Starts in 7x04

* * *

 _._

 **Of Homes and Families**

 **Prolog**

 _Two kinds of family, Ziver. One of them you can choose._

Gibbs whispered words still hung in the air.

Before, when she sat opposite of her former partner Malachi Ben-Gidon, feeling numb and hollow, hearing his accusation – hearing her father's voice through him – and knowing exactly what he wanted to achieve with it had made her feel like drowning. _How could he_ _…_ _?_ The desperate incomplete question was all her defeated mind was able to formulate. Gone was her fury, her fire. How could he, indeed.

It took a load off her mind when she finally understood her team did not give up on her. They fought for her and saved her again. She did not have to go back with Malachi. To Mossad. To her father.

Ziva also understood it was Gibbs' way of apologizing without vocalizing. She knew he regretted accusing her of killing her brother on orders, only to gain his trust. It hurt deeply, after four years of working together Gibbs still thought her capable of doing so. And yet… she had been another woman that time, fiercer, deadlier, more manipulative and less considerate. Maybe Gibbs had thought her capable _because_ he knew her so well.

Telling him about her… experience was Gibbs' condition for her return and deep inside she knew he was right. Still she tried to recount only a minimum of the bare facts however with Gibbs opposite of her and under his gaze she found herself revealing more of her feelings than she originally intended.

She still felt a deep gratitude that he didn't ask about the time _after_ Saleem's men overpowered her. Ziva wouldn't want to oppose Gibbs, not after what he had done for her, but she wasn't sure if she was even able to verbalize it.

He had declared her off-limits. He had forgiven her. She was home again.

Getting up slowly she turned to leave the room, only to be pulled in a bone-crushing hug by Abby who waited outside. The sudden movement made her flinch, but she calmed quickly, knowing Abby needed this hug probably more than anyone else. And it felt _so good_ especially after the latest betrayal of her biological family.

They did not share any words just walked silently towards the bullpen. Ziva slipped behind her desk, Abby moved to the wall leaning against it. McGee was smiling warmly, and Tony's face still displayed his joy about the triumph over Ben-Gidon.

Gibbs glanced around. "Go home, Ziva. It was a long day. You all go home."

"I am fine Gibbs" she replied automatically, rejecting 'nice Gibbs'.

"Wasn't a request, David."

 **oOo**

Their first case after Ben-Gidon left was a dead marine who loved Halloween and other jokes too much. It resulted in an overly embarrassed stepdaughter who thought she could frame her mother for the murder. Her plan to break free from parental restrictions on money and behavior failed as the team discovered the truth.

Ziva knew Gibbs watched her closely, especially in the beginning when they didn't know yet where the case was leading them. She appreciated and resented it to equal parts and was determined to do her best to prove to him and to herself that she could handle criminal investigation and that she could move on with her life.

Still, the whole team was extra careful around her, avoiding double meanings and allusions to violence or captivity. Of course, Tony couldn't resist teasing her endlessly with the new probie status and soon-to-be citizen of the USA, but he watched her closer than before to see how she reacted and always stopped as soon as it turned to the _reason_ for all the changes. Sometimes he succeeded, reestablishing some normality like it was before this dreadful summer, sometimes it led to an awkward moment as everyone fell silent and Ziva couldn't manage looking at them.

The days went on. Finally, being a real agent – probie, Tony didn't get tired to remind her – not just visitor or Mossad-Liason, Ziva enjoyed her new role and the security and control of her future that came with the job. She never realized how much it had bothered her to be always depended on the agreement of her father, always knowing he could terminate her work in D.C. any time.

Two weeks ago, shortly after she started working with NCIS again however strictly on desk duty, Director Vance had called her upstairs to his office to inform her Eli David was online in the video conference room and requested to talk to her. Ziva had refused. She would need to speak to him eventually but not now and definitely not as long as he was using Vance to make her talk to him. Besides forgetting her in Somalia and sending her former partner to burn her, he had not come for her – or even phone – in the hospital, obviously his wish to see her couldn't be overly strong. The thought was bitter. He could bloody well wait until she felt ready to see him.

 **oOo**

After another long day at work, it was just after 8pm and already dark, Ziva finally returned to her new apartment, the one Abby had organized for her. After their return from Somalia and the unpleasant stopover in the hospital – her team and the doctors had allied and forced her to stay – NCIS had organized a temporary place for her in the Navy Lodge. One day, Abby had rushed inside, ultra-exited from too much caffeine, a set of keys swirling in her hands.

Now Ziva was searching for precisely the same keys as tall dark figure appeared out of nowhere, approached quickly and stepped right into her personal space. Instantly her body went stiff, hand reached for the knife, but she was to slow. The figure put her in a choke hold and pressed a rag to her face. Panic overwhelmed her as she fought and kicked and tried to scream. Then her head went dizzy, she rapidly loosed consciousness and everything went black.

.


	2. Back in Israel

_Here comes the next chapter!_

 _Thank your for your review, Debbie. It was great to hear from you._

* * *

 _._

 **Of Homes and Families**

 **Back in Israel**

Officer Malachi Ben-Gidon put Ziva down in the waiting transporter and the driver started instantly. Malachi laid her head in his lap, stroking the dark curly hair out of her face. He hadn't wanted to frame her, accusing her of murder. But orders were orders and they were to be obeyed. Even more orders from his director. Almost a week ago, he had reported back to him about failing. _Again_. Full of fear for his future, because _you do not screw up in Mossad_. Especially not two times in a row.

Director David had not been pleased. He had unmistakable told him to _"_ _bring Ziva home_ " with or without her consent. And definitely without Team Gibbs interfering. Director David had instructed Michael Bashar of the Israeli Embassy to provide help in his quest. He had organized the narcotic chemicals, the car and the private plane where they were heading currently.

Bashar was waiting in front of the small airplane as Malachi climbed out of the transporter, Ziva unconscious in his arms, her bag from work on his back.

A short nod and they entered the plane together. Bashar went to tell the pilot to start and Malachi looked for a place to lay Ziva down. He chose the couch then patted down her body to collect her weapons. He retrieved the knife she had reached for in front of her home as well as her normal and spare gun. Then he turned to get a syringe out of his bag. He carefully injected its content into her bloodstream. Bashar had insisted on this out of security reasons. They both knew Ziva and none of them wanted her to wake up and run amok inside the plane. Especially not while flying.

The other option would be to tie her up however both men disliked the thought. They were following orders, yes, but they were not cruel. And binding her after that catastrophic Somalia incident would be – well, just cruel.

 **oOo**

Before they landed in Tel Aviv, Ben-Gidon pulled out the antidote and injected it to Ziva. Both men waited for a few minutes watching her intensively. As soon as she started stirring, Malachi moved in front of her, prepared to hold her down. They could not allow her to fight them in panic, just as the knock-out syringe it was a safety precaution. Of course, she did panic. The memory of the overpowering still fresh, in a foreign place with a man standing next to her, she rarely had another chance. He pressed her down and called her name. "Ziva, come on, calm down, I don't want to hurt you…" He went on speaking quietly until she calmed after short time as soon as her brain caught up and looked at him.

"Malachi…? What are you doing… where…?" She pressed against his hand and he removed it, allowing her to sit up. That moment she recognized the plane and Bashar. She went even paler.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked in an alarmed, high voice.

"You know, Ziva."

She turned her head away clenching her fists.

"I do not believe this," she whispered.

Bashar spoke up. "You can go to the bathroom if you need to. We will land in 30 minutes. And Ziva," he waited until she looked back to him, "for your own good, please do not fight or try to run. There will be other officers waiting for us at the tarmac."

Ziva pressed her teeth together silently then got up slowly. She staggered from the effects of the drugs but managed to walk to the bathroom without falling and slammed the door behind her.

 **oOo**

The arrival back in her country of birth and childhood was unpleasant.

Ziva resisted the temptation to rebel against Bashar's advice and kept quiet but shot dark angry looks at everyone. Two cars waited for them and they made her sit in the back between two officers. Outside the afternoon sun had burned down on them, inside she shivered – not only because of the air conditioner. The proximity of the men made her anxious and she had a hard time controlling her hands not to strike when the winding road forced them to lean towards her.

Ziva kept her face blank as they entered Mossad headquarters. It felt awfully familiar to be there again, nothing had changed and yet everything was different. She felt the stares of the other employees and officers as they passed. She was painfully aware of the way she was escorted, guarded, Malachi next to her, Bashar leading, and two others trailing behind and knew everyone here would see it. Brought here like a suspect, not like a visitor or former officer. That they were prepared for her running or attacking. _Unstable. Not trustworthy_. She wondered how far the gossip went. What did they know? What part of the story was popular here? Ziva David in need of rescue because she failed her mission, let herself getting captured, running back to the States, turning her back on Mossad?

She straitened as they climbed the stairs to the director's office. It didn't matter what they were thinking, her chosen family was in D.C. They probably discovered by now she was missing… It was morning in the States now and she had not showed up for work. Did they realize it was abduction? Were they looking for her? Ziva imagined Abby's shocked face when learning about her disappearance, Gibbs' anger, Tim's sad look and Tony's… _Couldn_ _'_ _t live without you, I guess_ _…_ she could only hope Gibbs would stop him from doing something stupid.

 **oOo**

They entered the outer office of Director Eli David and one of her escorts – or guard to be precise – gestured her to sit down on one of the chairs standing along the wall. She crossed her arms and kept standing, looking defiantly up to his face, cursing the fact she was so much smaller than most men. "Sit down" he ordered vocally, annoyed. Ziva narrowed her eyes and continued staring until Malachi came up behind her and put his big hands on her shoulders. She flinched inwardly at the touch.

"Ziva, please. Don't make it harder as it already is."

Suddenly tired her shoulders slackened and she let Malachi push her down on the chair. It didn't matter anymore.

Ben-Gidon and Bashar disappeared into her father's office, the others stayed watching her. Her eyes wandered around in the room, taking in the secretary who was clearly uncomfortable and avoided looks towards Ziva, instead tipped and arranged eagerly the papers on the desk. She wondered how far she would come if she just started running. Probably not very far. And she had no intention of being dragged back to the office kicking and screaming. The whole situation was painful and embarrassing enough. But just to occupy her mind… she could grab the chair next to her and swing it to the head of the nearest officer. Then she needed to be fast enough to kick or punch the second one, before he pulled out his weapon or succeeded in restraining her. Then the secretary needed to be knocked out before she could scream or phone someone. It was difficult but manageable – if she was fast enough. There would be a gun in the drawer and certainly other items she could use as weapons at the desk. Yes, she could manage to flee out of the room. However, outside was more security personnel and there was almost no chance of getting out of the building. And even then… where could she go? No money, no passport…

The door opened, and Bashar signaled her to come inside. She narrowed her eyes, posture displaying her unwillingness, but she got up and shoved him violently out of the way, eyes flashing as she dared Bashar to say anything about it. He was wise enough not to do so. Infuriated she stepped through the door, her concentration on _him_.

Her father dominated the room. Eli David was sitting erectly behind the desk in his few-thousand-Dollar office chair and showed mild amusement about her violent attitude towards Bashar. All about him, the posture, the set-up of the room seemed to emphasize 'my place my rules'.

He tilted his head, fingertips touching in front of him. "Shalom Ziva."

"I can _not_ believe you are doing this to me." She tried to hide the hurt and rather expressed fury.

His face was calm, almost understanding. "You are upset."

"Hell I am" she spat "what do you think you are doing? First frame me for murder then forcing me back, via _abduction_ , all while you clearly know I do not want to speak or deal with you." Ziva took a few large steps towards his desk, propping her hands on the dark wood and leaned forward. "You do not own me," she hissed, "who do you think you are?"

He was only slightly annoyed but not impressed much by her behavior. She was angry, ok, he got it. Smiling inwardly, he wondered if she felt embarrassed that she'd been overwhelmed by only one opponent. _America made her weak_. He chose to ignore the question. It was not like she actually wanted an answer to it. He raised his eyebrows. "I do not remember you being this insolent."

"Well I do not remember you being this much of a lunatic!"

"Ziva" he warned. Insults to his name was not something he tolerated easily.

She shot him a deadly glance. Why was he doing this to her? He was her _father_ for crying out loud! However, Ziva reminded herself, it had never been different. She raised her head and narrowed her eyes: "I have nothing to say to you."

.

* * *

 _tbc_


	3. Interrogation

_Huge thanks to my reviewers:_

 _rebecca-in-blue: It's great to hear such compliments. I'm happy you like the story and my characterization and I'm doing my best regarding the grammar :)_

 _Debbie: Yes, Eli and Ziva have a unique relationship which I like very much. I don't think Eli is the bad guy, at least not like Saleem or others but he is ruthless, proud and makes mistakes which he does not admit to himself. And Ziva is headstrong as well so… it's interesting_

 _Dear guest: Thank you too, I hope you like the next chapter as well._

* * *

 _._

 **Of Homes and Families**

 **Interrogation**

They brought her to one of the assembly rooms.

She smiled sadly, remembering her last time here, when Tony had mistaken it as an interrogation room. The differences between NCIS and Mossad where indeed striking. Why had she stopped trusting her team? The only ones who covered her six? Why the hell had she stayed in Israel? She forgot who she could trust, instead turning back to her father in a futile try to prove her loyalty and to _make him proud_. Her ability to judge was really fucked up. No wonder she ended up in Somalia.

Ziva paced up and down in the empty room, around the table, casting sideward glances at the surveillance cameras. She hated waiting, hated being here. The thoughts, the waiting was driving her crazy, fueling her anger. What exactly did they want from her? Make her come back to Mossad? Punish her for abandoning them, for choosing NCIS?

Finally, they came inside: Her father, Deputy Director Schimon Gyran, Elias Ambron from security and Abraham Kilt, head of Kidon. Hell, what a company. She felt her fury rising. "Sit down, Ziva," her father ordered. She snorted scornfully but pulled up a chair and obeyed like she always had.

It was silent for a long moment. They kept staring at each other.

Ambron began. "The terrorist Saleem Ulman. Tell us about him."

Ziva stiffened and dread filled her. "No." Her stomach clenched. She won't talk about him, not here, not to these men. _No, no, no, forget it._

"Officer David you…" Ambron started and Ziva lashed out, "I am no longer any of your officers!"

His face reddened at the interruption and impudence but before he could say anything else Kilt intervened. "Miss David… you know about assignments and targets of Mossad. About identities and names of undercover officers, about security protocols and a lot more. We need to know what you told – or were forced to tell Saleem."

Her breath was irregular now, she felt their looks on her, saw the cold disappointment in her father's eyes at her loss of control. She forced herself to calm down. "Nothing that is relevant to you," she spat.

"So you did give him information." Ambron stated.

"Where were all these concerns about security when I was actually there? Almost four fucking months but only now you remember I may have had sensitive information you do not want terrorists to know?"

The deputy director leaned in. "When Ben-Gidon reported you had continued alone and there was no further report about your whereabouts as you failed to check in, you were stated missing, presumed dead." He explained. "However, you survived – "

"No thanks to you," Ziva muttered hostilely,

"– and are here now, so this is a perfect opportunity to gain information about what terrorists are currently interested in, leading to potential attacks and about what teams or missions of Mossad are in jeopardy. I am sure you don't want your former colleges to be in unnecessary danger."

She could understand that logic, at least to some degree. However, it was textbook blackmailing like she had learned in Mossad an eternity ago. They were blackmailing her emotionally, appealing to her sense of duty and guilt. It stung that they were right.

Tired, she turned her head and answered. "It does not matter what I may have said. They are dead." Because of her team. Who had come for her rescue. Well, not exactly for her _rescue_ , they had thought she had sunk with the Damocles. Still they had come for her.

"You know there might have been communication between this camp and other terrorists. I am sure your capture was something they boasted with."

 _Bahari_ , she remembered dreadfully, _Kasim, that broken nose guy_ _…_ Her hands were shaking. She folded them and put them in her lap to keep them from highlighting her weakness.

"When they captured you, they knew you were Mossad?"

"They suspected", she replied exhausted, tired.

"Your identity?"

She could feel her father's stare.

"After some time."

"Bet he was thrilled." Kilt murmured.

Ziva did not answer. She remembered it like yesterday. 'Thrilled' was an understatement.

"You told Ulman?"

"Facial recognition."

"They have access to facial recognition?" Ambron asked surprised. He shared a concerned look with the Director, thinking about the consequences of this.

"Why not earlier, Ziva?" Eli David spoke. "Why did they need 'some time' for this?"

She gave him a hard look. "Apparently my face was not recognizable before." There was a quiet moment as everyone knew what she was implying.

"What was he asking?"

 _What was he asking? What was he asking?_ She felt so tired, light-headed, worn out from the painful questions.

 _Tell me, filthy whore! You think you can hold on forever? Answer me, Mossad bitch! A slap to the face, a fist to the ribs. She hardly felt it. A rough hand grabbed her chin, forced her to look to his face. Sometime ago she would have spat into it. Now she had no water left just saw sparks in her vision, his face was swimming, shimmering. Just end it, she thought desperately._

 _Saleem pulled out a water bottle from somewhere. Ziva couldn_ _'_ _t control it. Instantly her eyes were fixed on the bottle, seeing nothing else, her dry throat hypersensitive. When was the last time she got something to drink?_

 _Saleem grinned._ _"_ _You like this?_ _"_ _He opened it and took a long gulp. The sheer cruelty of this action made her cry out, made her to pull desperately at the ropes and cable ties that bound her limbs to the chair. The urge to lash out, to kill him overwhelmed her but she was powerless in her rage. She hated him. She hated him so much it was killing her._

 _"_ _I tell you something, little Ziva David_ _"_ _he leaned in, bringing his face_ _–_ _and the water bottle_ _–_ _close up to her own face,_ _"_ _you tell me how to get into NCIS building and then you will receive some of this._ _"_ _He held up the bottle. She stayed quiet and pressed her parched lips together. She had betrayed NCIS and her team during the Rivkin affair, but she would not be responsible for another attack, would not provide them with information to kill Abby in her lab, to shoot inside the bullpen, to destroy the home she once had. Not as long as she could help it._

 _"_ _Filthy scum. Your loyalty is ridiculous, but you know what? I can wait._ _"_ _Saleem straightened up, and with a cruel grin he turned the bottle and all its precious content was spilled on the dirt floor right before her. Fury consumed her and hate, oh the hate. She cried out again, swearing in Hebrew at Saleem, promising him a slow and painful death, promising she would survive this and then come back for him. Then he was out of the door and she was only cursing the blank walls._

"Ziva!"

She blinked.

"What was he asking?"

"Everything", she snapped, "Mossad, NCIS as soon as they learned about it, the defense mechanisms of the States, communication between Israel and USA, measures to prevent and pursue terror attacks… just pick one" Her heart was racing, breath catching. To sit here and being interrogated, asked questions she did not want to answer… it was different from Somalia, sure, but it felt the same. She wasn't tied up, no one hit her or used his knife on her body, but she was trapped here, no way out, overpowered by men she did not wish to be in company with. Not knowing when it ended, the control taken out of her hands.

"Mossad."

"What?" Ziva asked confused.

"I pick Mossad. What did Saleem Ulman already know about us, what did he want to know and what did you tell him."

Ziva closed her eyes for a few seconds, taking deep breaths.

"What do I have from telling you all this? I do not want to talk about it, I resigned from Mossad and therefore I am no longer under your orders."

Deputy Director Gyran had only a cold look for her. "You are Israeli and right now you are here as a witness and enjoy all the comfort that comes with that. Oppose us and we will change your status to suspect in an ongoing investigation about treason. You know the laws. We will keep you here as long as it is necessary. Do not think your Americans will save you out of this."

The unconcealed threat left her voiceless for a moment. Then her anger came up again. She opened her mouth for a harsh reply… "Careful Schimon" Eli David interrupted before she could say anything, "Ziva does not like to be threatened; she has this from me." He chuckled and Ziva's face darkened.

He turned to his daughter. "However, he is right Ziva. Tell us what you know, and everything is fine. Do not force us to question your honesty and loyalty."

"As if you would know anything about loyalty…" she whispered quietly to herself.

"Ziva, be careful," he warned her.

She looked over to him and leaned in, defiance in her feature. "And what about after it? Even if I tell you everything, what is after this? Am I free to go?"

"We will talk about it another time."

She narrowed her eyes. "I want an answer now."

"You will not get one."

Annoyed by her objections Ambron decided to turn the topic back to Saleem and to make a point he slapped his hand on the metal table, producing a loud clanking tone.

The result was immediate. Ziva jerked violently, back pressed at the back of her chair, eyes wide, shocked almost to death by the sudden noise.

The four men were quiet at once and looked at her intensely, watched as she started breathing again. The fear was still apparent when she turned her head, embarrassed by her reaction.

They gave her a moment to catch her breath before they returned merciless to the topic.

"Miss David. Saleem and Mossad, go on."

She surrendered. Her face emotionless, eyes far away, Ziva started to speak like a robot.

"He wanted floor plans of headquarters, in which part the offices of the leaders are, where to find weapons, how many entries, how many guards, how often they change, are there tunnels to other buildings, where is the rest of my team, are more teams assigned to his person or camp, does someone know where I went, does he need to prepare for a rescue, Mossad does not negotiate with terrorists but what do I think if he sends a unpleasant video of me to the director, will he make an exception, how is security around him, where does he live, protection of his home, does he has family or friends he cares for, what cars does he take, what routes do they take, what about the other leaders of Mossad, how many teams are targeting his fellow terrorists, their names, their cover names, what do you know about terrorist activity, how strong are the bonds between Israel and USA, are there any moles in terror groups…

She was shaking. She was cold. No, it was hot. The stuffy air, cold sweat on her skin, the dark dusty room, bare feet on cool earth floor, splattered with her blood. Blood trickling down her arms, her nose.

 _Saleem grinned at her._ _"_ _Why are you whining, girl? Don_ _'_ _t tell me you never did this to anyone. Perhaps to a friend of mine?_ _"_ _He circled her._ _"_ _To get information? No difference to what I_ _'_ _m doing here, isn_ _'_ _t it? How does it feel to be at the receiving end of torture for once?_

"Miss David… "

"Ziva! …"

A voice was calling from far.

She blinked several times, concentration on her body. It was fine, there were no fresh cuts or bruises, she could breathe without problems, she was sitting on a chair without armrest, she was not tied, she was not in Somalia.

"Was that enough?" she screamed at them, tears in her eyes, arms around her body, rocking softly.

"Enough for now." Eli decided, cutting off his deputy, "we will take a break."

He went to open the door. "Officer Ben-Gidon, Officer Ihar, please escort Ziva to the guest rooms." He turned around to his daughter, glad to see she has regained most of her composure again. He knew touching her now to get her walking would be a bad move. Her head was downcast, hair hiding most of her face and he saw that Ben-Gidon was shocked by her sudden vulnerability as he only knew her as a tough, quick-witted assassin.

 **oOo**

Ziva walked quietly between the two officers leading her away. Inside her assigned room she turned to the bed, collapsed on it and buried her face in the soft sheets while her whole body was shaken by silent sobs.

* * *

tbc


	4. Internal meeting

_Thank you Debbie :)_

 _This chapter was a lot of work, but I like it a lot  
_

 _The last chapters were mostly about Ziva, this one concentrates more on Eli David and gives some inside to his thoughts and reasons for his actions. I needed to invent and improvise a lot because the series reveal not much (unfortunately, I'd like to see much more of him), hope you still like his characterization and behavior._

* * *

 _._

 **Of Homes and Families**

 **Internal meeting**

Ziva's breakdown after recalling the interrogation and questions by Saleem caused Eli David to stop their own questioning. Ziva was always strong, he had raised her this way and seeing her weak and unable to control her emotions made him feel strangely uncomfortable – and disappointed too. He felt torn between pitying, regretting and being irritated by her behavior. Why couldn't she get a grip on herself? She was a strong young woman and he had made sure to grant her time in the US to recover instead of demanding her return to Israel right after her release from the hospital. But did she made use of the time or thank him for that? He had shielded her from being summoned to Mossad at once, asserted it against Gyran's will. Then NCIS' own investigation about the events on the _Damocles_ had given him a perfect opportunity to intervene and remind them that _Ziva David is of Mossad_.

Hopefully Ziva would be more prepared the next day, so he sent her away to the guest rooms to get some sleep. Sitting down again, they were silent for some time. The other three men waited for him to take the lead. Eli was not too eager to discuss her broken state. Her weakness reflected on him as well. He did not like his colleges or subordinates witness the failure. His enemies – inside and outside of Mossad – were restless and waited for every opportunity to overthrow him. His reputation had not increased with Ziva disappearing, unable to complete her mission. Still, they needed to discuss it.

Sighing Eli David broke the silence. "Ok, first the information then her person."

Ambron started. "Most of it is not surprising, information on attack possibilities against headquarters or leaders as well as concern about his own safety, therefore the questions on her team or rescue. Facial recognition however poses a serious threat. If random terrorists are able to identify us undercover… "

"… we have a huge lack of security. We should have brought her here earlier. Intel such as this we need to have instantly" Gyran said, his voice sullen.

"How is that possible for them to use facial recognition?" Kilt asked.

"If he really has access to it then he or a buddy of him must have hacked in to some governmental institution, probably a foreign one, maybe NCIS? She is definitely listed there. However… they shouldn't know about NCIS or of her work there before they even learned her name. So truth be told, it could be anyone. Maybe even us. I will inquire about that," Ambron answered.

"There is also the possibility that it is not true," Kilt pointed out.

"You think she lied?"

"No", he answered slowly, "no, I think maybe Ulman lied. Maybe someone recognized her, maybe someone who had contact with Mossad."

"A traitor?"

"Possible. However, a former suspect of us or a relative of one is more likely. And she's a David. Hamas has files about known Mossad members, we know that. Maybe Saleem or one of his had access to it."

"And what is the point in telling her it was facial recognition that identified her?"

"Psychological torture? Boasting? Feeling like a big evil hacker who succeeded in breaking through his enemy's defenses when it was just luck in reality? And taking suspect pictures of her like we do it with them may have made him feel superior and professional rather than the criminal scum he was."

"That explanation would not contradict the delay of her identification. They would need some time either way," Ambron added thoughtfully.

"Yes, but we will definitely need more specific information about it."

"Speaking of pictures, the video she mentioned. The one of her. That Saleem thought to send to us. Did we receive one?"

Eli David shook his head, "no, we did not."

The unspoken question was not to be missed. _What would he have done, confronted with a video or pictures of his daughter being tortured?_ Eli didn't know. He was almost glad Ulman obviously never had the guts to send his message or considered it not worth the trouble. As usual Eli suppressed the hushed voice of his conscience saying ' _Why are you glad about it? If Ulman would have sent a message you could have stopped her suffering earlier, couldn_ _'_ _t you?_ _'_

Then this _Special Agent Gibbs_ would not have saved the day, would not be the knight in shining amour. Then Ziva would be his alone.

Eli sighed again, he had thought her dead and now the damage was done, he couldn't change it. "Anything else that is important?"

"Well, you stopped it as soon as it got interesting" the deputy said sharply and leaned back.

In Eli's eyes flashed a cold warning towards his second in command, a warning not to question him.

"We still do not know what exactly she told them. Even if she insisted it was nothing relevant," Kilt said.

"I'm not sure I can believe that. She spent months there. Her presence in the camp was a liability in many aspects for them but they kept her. For information and for their pleasure I'd guess. There is no way she kept quiet about all crucial information, not for such a long time. We are lucky she worked mostly with NCIS before; otherwise she would have spilled much more about Mossad secrets. Do we know what they did exactly?"

"I have her medical file." Eli said, "Although NCIS did not want to hand it over, they kept saying it is 'confidential'. I bet that is the doing of _Special Agent Gibbs_. And Leon is not as supportive as he had been once. I haven't had the time to put pressure on them, so I got it the inofficial way."

"So, it is the usual?" the deputy asked.

"Like it is to be expected. It wasn't pretty." _No, it definitely wasn_ _'_ _t. She did not deserve that._

"It would be an excellent case study." Ambron remarked. "We have the survivor – a female survivor for once – of an almost four-month-captivity and her medical report. We just need her review about the psychological part to the torture and how it affects her during and after it."

Kilt chuckled. "Considering her attitude today I bet you won't get that kind of information out of her."

"I see the problem," Ambron answered, "however it would be extremely valuable teaching material to our people, to prepare them for a similar situation. If we can persuade or force her if necessary…" suddenly he seemed to remember whose daughter Ziva was. He looked to Eli, "of course only with your permission."

"I see your point", Eli replied. "However, Ziva is… recalcitrant. I'm not sure we will be able to force her…" A case study designed by her captivity… He could see its excellent benefits for other officers, but it would also insure that no one ever forgot it. Even anonymized he had no illusions, every single man and woman in Mossad would know who it dealt with. The case was too unique. He could already imagine how his usurpers and ambitious subordinates would use this to bring him down. A 'harmless' mention here and there – of course only in context – would make sure it stayed present to remind everyone of his daughter's and therefore his own failure. He suddenly felt protective of Ziva. She did not deserve a constant discussion of it. He sighted inwardly. _Was there anything he wasn_ _'_ _t prepared to do for Israel_ _'_ _s greater good?_ He asked himself rhetorically. _This wasn_ _'_ _t about Eli or Ziva David. It was about protecting Israel._

"A case study." The deputy looked almost pleased. "You do realize that if we go on with this you will lose her for good? You probably already lost her. She will never trust you again and won't forgive you. And we can't trust her any more. She is broken. Gee, have you seen her after the slap on the table? I don't know what standards these Navy Cops have but here she will get herself and anyone who is working with her killed in no time. Your training was useless. She was not strong enough for that."

Eli did not miss the critic. "It is what it is. I can't change it now. There were medicaments for PTSD in her bag, I found them when Ben-Gidon gave it to me. So, she may get better in time. However, I agree there is most likely no future for her with Mossad. At least not any time soon." _Better not. It would be the downfall for him. She was not reliable any more. One screwed up mission, one mistake and they would find a way to blame him._

"What are your plans for her?"

"Currently I am thinking about that. But I may allow her to return to the States, at least temporary, if that is what she wishes. After we have cleared all questions."

He looked around. "Any other thoughts? – If not, we will go on tomorrow."

 **oOo**

Closing the office door behind him Eli David went to his desk and sat down. He unlocked a drawer and pulled out Ziva's medical report as well as her one-and-a-half-pages report for NCIS about Somalia. It was a useless one. Detached and strictly fact based, nothing interesting in it. He could have written it himself for all it was good.

"What shall I do with you Ziva…?" he asked quietly into his room. She was not loyal any more. He had put his hope in young Michael Rivkin, but he had failed, drank too much and then the American jerk had killed him. Both Rivkin and Eli himself had made the mistake to underestimate this Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. After he had tricked him into admitting Rivkin had followed his orders, Ziva's loyalty, weakened from the long time abroad, got another crack.

She had been furious when confronting him about this. The manipulation skills he had nourished his entire life had come to good use. He had been able to turn the distrust and her confusion about Rivkin and DiNozzo into an accusation of wavering loyalty and made her stay voluntarily. It had been his masterpiece. No more Americans making her soft and weak, she had been his again. Just not for long. Ulman happened, the Americans saved her, and she turned around without looking back. He learned the news of her rescue from Leon, as well as the message about her refusing to speak to him. An email he got. A resignation. After all the work and time and money he spent on her training she had quit for a minor, unimportant US agency.

Eli turned on his computer and searched for the transmission of the camera in her room. It was dark but reflection of lights from outside the window revealed her sleeping form. She was curled up on the bed, face pressed half into the sheets, her hair concealing the rest of it.

He watched her for a long time.

* * *

 _tbc_

 _Hope you liked it_


	5. Gossip and speculation

_**Debbie** , you are great! I enjoy your reviews very much, they are so encouraging. I, too, love the last chapter, their discussion of Ziva's current state from their point of view is quite fascinating. And yes, they are icy rational, without emotion and almost without pity (except Eli to a certain extent) but not out of pure malice but because they think they are right and working for the greater good. _

_Thank you as well, **rebecca-in-blue**. I'm glad you like how I've written Malachi and I think you are completely right. They all have complex personalities and are not just purely evil or good. About your advice in the second review, just be patient, we will go back to D.C. soon. Probably in the next chapter._

 _Perhaps someone else would like to tell me what he or she thinks as well…?_

 _Reviews are a great motivation :)_

* * *

 _._

 **Of Homes and Families**

 **Gossip and speculation  
**

Ziva opened her eyes and closed them again. It had not been a dream. Outside the day just started, dawn was breaking. She got up and walked to the window. The sight was kind of depressing: a paved area interrupted by some lonely trees and surrounded by Mossad buildings. She didn't bother trying to open the window, it wouldn't work. Turning around she scanned the walls for the camera which was hidden somewhere, all guest rooms had one, she knew. The temptation to destroy it right now was overwhelming but that would probably trigger an alarm and she wanted to shower first. Once inside the bathroom, she locked the door and started to search for another camera. Normally only the rooms had one but hell, Mossad didn't care too much about privacy.

Not finding anything she allowed herself to relax and undressed. The mirror was huge, but she avoided looks into it, wasn't used to the sight of her changed body yet. The doctor told her the wounds are healing well and assured her that some of the smaller scars would fade, others get less prominent but right now most of them were still red and sensitive, the cigarette burns obvious and some bruises had not vanished completely yet.

After the shower she went to the front door, wondering if it would be locked or if someone was waiting for her outside. The latter was true. Officer Ihar stood outside, a dark inscrutable guy she knew from former missions although they were never teamed.

"Good morning Miss David. Would you like to go for breakfast?" he asked politely.

Breakfast was downstairs in a canteen-like room. Despite the early hour a few tables were already occupied, and a hushed silence fell on the room as they entered. Ziva gritted her teeth. So word has already gotten around about her being back.

She knew most of them, at least by sight but ignored them all and helped herself to the food.

 **oOo**

Two young officers and their older team leader had just returned from an observation and were enjoying an early breakfast together.

They looked up when suddenly the noise level dropped.

Ziva David. _Mossad_ _'_ _s daughter_.

Aaron had been told by a college she was here again. He claimed it wasn't of Ziva's own free will. Another one had heard them speaking and added, yes, they needed to beat her unconscious to bring her here. And she was questioned by Director David and some other high ranging men he had heard. The topic of _Somalia_ had been omnipresent in the offices, stoked by the lack of real, confirmed information.

He looked to his younger team mates. "You know about her?"

"Of course," Levi answered, and Hannah nodded in agreement, "she's Director David's daughter. She got kidnapped this summer by a terror cell." "And she left Mossad after some Americans she used to work with saved her."

"You are well informed" Aaron replied ironically. So far it was common knowledge.

Levi blushed.

Aaron nodded to Hannah. "You just had your psychology training last week, hadn't you? Tell me what you see."

Hannah looked over. "She is tense and ignoring everyone but her eyes twitch around. Probably disliking the attention, maybe intimidated by it?"

"And that's an excellent example why a remote diagnosis is difficult and further information on the target are very important. If you knew Ziva David you would never consider her _intimidated_. She is pissed off, I can tell you that. She was brought here against her will, because the director wants something from her. Something related to the time in Somalia I'd guess."

"Against her will?" Hannah asked surprised. "How do you know?"

"Don't you see her guard? And never underestimate the value of office gossip. It was all around. Where have you been yesterday?" He smiled, teasing.

"She is one of the best assassins, isn't she?" Levi asked admiringly, still staring at Ziva, "and she survived almost four months with the terrorists."

Hannah looked over again. "What do you think happened there?

"She failed her mission and made the mistake of getting captured alive. It is safe to assume they wanted information from her, so I guess they did everything you learn about in your classes."

Hannah swallowed.

"Her mission was to kill the leader wasn't it?" Levi asked, "I heard she went on alone after her team was killed."

"Partly killed and partly injured, yes."

 **oOo**

A few hours later, Ziva found herself in the same room, opposite of the same men as the day before. She had spent the morning to prepare mentally for this. No more breakdowns in front of them, she promised herself. Now she felt strangely calm.

"I want to speak with my team", Ziva demanded.

"That is not a good idea. It will distract you." Her father dismissed the thought.

"I'm not going to be distracted by them! I just disappeared, I'm sure you remember. They do not know what is going on…"

"Be assured, I will inform Leon Vance about your time here. He will certainly tell them."

Ziva clenched her fists and tried to suppress the feeling of helpless anger. He was denying her even that small comfort, a talk on the phone, just because he could do it and because he disliked her team. And there was nothing she could do about it.

"We have a few more questions, Miss David" Gyran started.

"Yeah, sure" She never liked sarcasm more.

"You mentioned facial recognition yesterday. Can you confirm the use, or did they only tell you?"

"I tell you after I spoke to my team." Ziva crossed her arms as she tempted her fate.

Defiance was good. It gave her back some control and she didn't feel so helpless anymore. She would tell them only if she got something in return.

Eli David was not happy about her action. Anger flashed on his face only to disappear a second later. His eyes went cold, he slowly left his chair and strode towards her, posture threatening and acting in his dominate position while she was forced to look up to him.

Suddenly Ziva felt like a child again, the time her father had been so much bigger and had always towered over them, demanding respect, unconditional obedience and full devotion for his requests. That time when she had still been eager to please and had thought she could earn his love with obedience.

"Let me tell you one thing straight. Just because we are related you will not get any preferential treatment. You will show us all due respect and answer our questions. You do _not_ have the option not to answer or try to blackmail us. If you ever want to return to America, you better do what we say and do not oppose us. Otherwise you will stay here, and your Americans will never hear from you again."

His tone was calm and firm. He did not get angry or emotional, only the eyes were cold and disappointed as he looked down on her.

Ziva swallowed and felt subdued helpless fury forming inside her. _It still worked_. His threatening manner still worked like it had in the years of her childhood. She was an adult now, also very skilled in threatening others but still her father held that kind of power over her. And she knew the phrase 'your team will never hear from you again' was no empty threat. He had the possibilities to keep her here for a long time.

Deputy Director Gyran was pleasantly surprised and a smug smile formed on his face. He had worried secretly if Eli was able to suppress his parental feelings or if he would be biased. Especially after he stopped the questioning yesterday following Ziva's breakdown. With any other suspect they would have pressed even harder after that, would have taken advantage of the vulnerability. Well, he called himself to order, he probably should consider Ziva David was not really a _suspect_ and should acknowledge she had had a terrible time in Somalia. However, she was Mossad by birth, didn't matter if she denounced it or not. She had the obligation to protect her country and being weak was no excuse. She had been trained for this. Her ongoing defiance was absolutely annoying and needed to be eradicated.

Yes, it was an excellent speech of his director, consisting of precise orders, classic threats and performed in a dominate position with a calm, powerful voice. And it had worked, they could see quiet resignation forming on her face and she literally sagged on the chair.

Eli David still towered over Ziva, one hand propped on the back of her chair, one on the table in front of her. "So once again: can you confirm the use of facial recognition or did they only tell you?"

Ziva gave up resistance. It almost hurt physically. "He just boasted with it."

"So, it could have been a lie?"

Her face said _I hate you_ , Eli could see it clearly. "He enjoyed making all the pictures but did not drag me in front of his computer to watch it, if that is what you mean."

The men shared relieved glances as this indicated their theory of Saleem only showing off to be true.

"What did you answer to all the questions about Mossad?" Ambron asked.

"Nothing relevant." She repeated her answer from yesterday.

"A more specific answer is required here."

She did not like his patronizing manner.

"Outdated or irrelevant answers."

"More precise please, Miss David."

"No!" She glared at them. "Deal with this. It was nothing important or crucial. I worked in the US for several years before it – not in Israel – in case you forgot. And it was not like he could check the information anyway."

And like that it went on.

After many more questions and short-tempered answers about Mossad and its security, Ziva, fed up with the interrogation, made the mistake to say Saleem had been more interested in the USA than Israel, which resulted in another round of painful memories and demands of her to speak.

It felt like an eternity before they finally dismissed her for the day.

In her room waited dinner, a set of fresh clothes and on the table stood a small bottle with her PTSD medication. The sight of it made her angry and ashamed. They knew – how? It had been in her bag, of course, Malachi wouldn't let her bag behind after knocking her out. He was no rookie.

Ziva quickly recalled a mental inventory of the other items in the bag. Some clothes, paper, pens, her mobile, wallet, keys… but nothing important about her work or team, she thought relieved.

She ate some of the food before she remembered the camera and went to disable it – by force. Then she walked around in the small room, looked for other cameras, sat down and ate some more, got up again, went for the medication, sat down again, got up… She felt tears forming in her eyes.

How she wished for someone familiar, for Tali, for Ari (the one of her childhood), for Gibbs, Abby, Tony, McGee…

She wished she could talk to them, to tell then she's – well, not fine but at least alive, to hear that they miss her, maybe even saying it back…

* * *

 _So, that's it for today._

 _Next chapter: We will have a look on what's happening in D.C. Are they missing Ziva?_

 _Tell me what you think, please?_


	6. Déjà vu

_Thanks a lot, BKeh!_

 _And to you as always, Debbie :)_

 _Like I promised, today I'm taking the story to D.C._

 _I like this chapter, hope you do so too! :-)_

* * *

 _._

 **Of Homes and Families**

 **Déjà vu**

Tony entered the bullpen right on time, surprised to be the first one. Well not the very first – Gibbs jacket hang there, so he probably went for his first coffee. No, not probably, Tony would bet his lunch on it.

He smirked. Probie would get to hear something about being late when she arrived. What could he say…?

Maybe: 'After four years you still haven't learned what time we start working?' or 'You know, punctuality is a virtue in the States – and for its citizens' or 'What happened if you're this late with Mossad…' no, better not mention that, he reminded himself. A movie reference it would be: 'You know, if Superman would come as late as you he'd never save anyone'. Or just bluntly: 'Probie you're late! Go get me some coffee!' Tony grinned. There were so many possibilities…

"Where are McGee and David?" He jolted at Gibbs' sharp question and stopped his daydreaming immediately. "No idea, boss."

"I'm here boss!" McGee rushed in, throwing his belongings behind the desk. His eyes hurried over to the clock and he muttered, "it's just a few minutes."

Tony rotated some rounds on his chair. "A few minutes matter my dear Not-anymore-Probie-McGeek-who-is-soon-to-be-Probie-again-if-he-makes-late-coming-a-habit."

McGee shot an irritated look at Tony. "Don't show off this much. Where's Ziva?"

Tony only grinned: "Late."

One hour passed and they started to worry. Her phone was turned off and Gibbs even went so far to look up his email account to check if she had written some message.

"DiNozzo! Go to her apartment. Ask Abby for keys, she has a spare one."

Yeah, right, Abby had organized the apartment for Ziva after she came back. Tony gladly took over that task and almost 'pulled a Ziva' in terms of driving and disregard of traffic laws.

 **oOo**

Ziva had disappeared into thin air. No sign of her. No sign of any struggle and none of her leaving voluntarily. Neighbors hadn't noticed anything.

She wasn't out running, her running clothes were folded neatly on a chair, shoes on the floor before it. The apartment and wardrobe were almost empty but after Somalia she had owned nothing, _really nothing_ so they couldn't say if that was the reason for the empty space or if she packed her clothes.

Ziva. Disappeared. Without a sign.

Tony got a headache.

The whole team had one terrible Déjà vu.

"Find her!" Gibbs bellowed through the bullpen.

 **oOo**

McGee and Abby withdrew to the lab and worked on their computers like crazy.

Around 2 pm, after unsuccessful questionings of neighbors, bus drivers and anyone else close to Ziva last night Gibbs and Tony returned to NCIS. They went straight down to the lab and Gibbs requested an update.

McGee started to talk, worry evident in his voice, while Abby squeezed her hippo and looked at them with wide eyes.

"No use of her credit card, phone, email account or anything, Boss. She did not leave the country; her passport has not been registered lately. We checked the traffic surveillance, she went straight home from work yesterday, using the bus because as you know she has no car yet. We have a surveillance video from the bus of her. 07.42pm she got on the bus and off at 07.55." He showed them two grainy pictures. Ziva was marked in red. "After that she must have walked to her apartment. That is residential area and there are no more cameras." He swallowed nervously.

Abby went on. "We checked the other passengers in the bus, checked if she fits the profile of any serial killer, rapist or if there was any criminal who is acting out of anti-Semitism or hates other religions. Nothing Gibbs, nothing. Either she is a random victim, left voluntarily or… Gibbs, do you think it's her father?"

Gibbs' gut was saying it all morning. It was too soon after Eli David sent his minion to force her back. No coincidence.

"Check Ben-Gidon."

"We already have." McGee said. "He's still in the country. He landed here the morning he showed up at NCIS, came straight to us from the airport. After we kicked him out he paid for one night in a hotel and for some food. He phoned a highly encrypted number in Israel that night."

"Reporting back about failing, I hope." Gibbs said.

"Yes, probably. The next day he disappeared as well. No sign of him anymore."

"You're sure he's still here?"

"His passport lists only the immigration."

"Show me."

Abby went to the computer and tipped in the name. "Here. Malachi Ben-Gidon, male, citizenship Israeli. Immigration to US on... no way!"

Her shocked voice startled them.

McGee looked at the screen.

"They backdated the emigration to yesterday evening." Abby's voice was high with anger and frustration. "It says he left on a private plane, destination Tel Aviv."

"He failed to bring Ziva to Israel and then he gets a ride back on a private plane?" Tony asked doubtfully.

"He did not fail it, DiNozzo" Gibbs said. "He accomplished it. Check Ziva's passport again, Abs."

Abby was already on it. "It's backdated it as well", she whispered, "same time, same flight."

A shocked silence filled the room.

"She just… left with him? Without telling us?" McGee asked baffled. "That can't be true."

"Are there any security cameras at the airport where they started?" Tony asked urgently.

McGee and Abby started tipping, talking quietly to themselves in their Geek language they always used for this kind of work. After 15 endless minutes McGee got a record of the airstrip from the last evening. A small airplane stood there in the dark and they could see a tall figure moving in front of it but the quality and light was bad and the camera was too far away to see anything more or to identify him. At 20.25 a black transporter drove towards the plane, pulled up and a second person got out of the car. He was holding something in his arms. Something big. Something… or someone.

 **oOo**

Gibbs was burning with rage. He stormed up to Leon Vance's office ignoring the protesting secretary and charged into the room.

Vance looked up surprised. "Special Agent Gibbs. You know I do not appreciate you coming in here just like you wish to."

Gibbs gritted his teeth barely controlling his temper. "Your best friend Eli David…"

 _Oh no,_ Vance thought, _what had happened_? He remembered Officer Ben-Gidon's visit last week quite vividly. He had always known Director David could be ruthless but the way he tried to get back his daughter still irritated him. Eli's pride was excessive, especially when wounded but he was not stupid, he should have known that so shortly after Somalia without a reconciliation talk to his daughter first, she would not want to leave. Had his aversion to Gibbs really made him this blind? Eli and Gibbs had chosen each other as opponents, it was obvious. Mostly over Ziva David but he suspected that at least Eli had some other reasons as well.

Vance still remembered his phone call to Eli after Gibbs' team brought her back from Somalia. When he informed him about Ziva's rescue, he had expected Eli to be relieved and happy, but he was strangely calm and dismissed his message first. ' _No way she is alive_ _'_ were the exact words. Vance still wondered if he had convinced himself she died long ago to save him from the guilt. If somehow Ziva dying in his imagination saved her from whatever had happened?

Still, their time in Amsterdam almost twenty years ago had formed a bond between Eli and Leon but it didn't stop him from seeing the mistakes Eli had made. _So, what had he done now?_

Gibbs was shaking with anger. "That bastard had Ziva kidnapped last night!"

Vance sat up straight.

 **oOo**

Half way around the world it was late evening and Eli silently watched the transmission of Ziva sleeping. Today had been the first time he had seen her after sending her off to dismantle the camp and kill Ulman. The questioning or perhaps rather the memories brought up today had been tough on her. She was so much weaker than before, lost her emotional strength. Before, he had never witnessed a breakdown of his daughter.

When he started watching, Ziva's face had been hidden but by now she had turned in her sleep. She looked _so young_.

The door opened, and his secretary asked: "Sir, there is a call by Director Vance from NCIS. Do you want me to put him through?

He thought about it for a second. "Please tell him I'm busy and that I will call him tomorrow."

Then he continued watching.

 **oOo**

 _Damn it_. Tony's mood changed between depressed and furious. They had brought her back, brought her back from this hellhole she had spent the summer in and now she was gone again. The memory of Somalia had carved itself in Tony's mind. He vividly remembered sitting opposite of Ziva, so astonished that she was still alive and yet helpless, with so much fear in his heart as Saleem was about to slice her throat.

" _We are not taking prisoners._ _"_

 _When Saleem had his knife at her throat seconds away from killing her, Ziva could have cried out in despair and anger. All the time she had prepared for death, would have embraced it and prayed for it just to escape the misery and violence at the camp. However, Saleem had always denied her this way out. They had kept her living, too weak to fight but not enough to die._

 _And now Tony and McGee had found her somehow and she knew their deaths would be her burden as well. Oh, why did they come?_

 _And yet, the sight of them had sparked hope, involuntarily and against all reasons she suddenly had hope of getting out of here. And now, after futile praying for death for so long Saleem was finally ready to kill her, just after she foolishly allowed herself to hope._

 _It was cruel beyond all measure._

 _Then McGee attacked and Tony rambled and then Saleem was dead. Dead. Lying next to her on the floor. Was that a bullet wound on his forehead? But_ _…_ _where did it come from? McGee? Tony? How had he hidden a gun? And he was tied up, wasn_ _'_ _t he? How did he_ _…_ _? She felt incapable of thinking clearly, did not understand. Saleem_ _'_ _s cold lifeless eyes were staring at her. She stared back, too overwhelmed to feel anything._

 _They cut the zip tie around her wrists and pulled her to the feet and Ziva stumbled barefoot in between her former partners too weak to walk on her own. Gibbs_ _–_ _Gibbs?_ _–_ _appeared in front of them and Ziva just stared on at him. It all happened too fast, it couldn_ _'_ _t be real she must be dreaming, yes? Her head was spinning, and she was dragged on and it_ hurt _. So Saleem_ _'_ _s men got her again. She struggled against their firm hold, missed a step and her legs crumpled but they continued dragging her. Suddenly it was unbelievable bright, she was blinded by it and the heat hit her like a wall. She continued fighting weakly against their filthy hands, but they wouldn_ _'_ _t lose their hold on her. It all was too much, too fast, she was so disorientated and overstressed and then, finally, she blacked out._

 _._

 _Tony cursed as he felt Ziva going limb next to him. Cursed at Saleem, at this God damn country, at Mossad to leave her here. They arrived at the jeep and Gibbs reached for Ziva to pull her on the loading area. Tony followed, climbing up awkwardly._

 _._

 _Tim watched Gibbs laying Ziva down carefully and sat next to her unconscious body and shifted her head in his lap, so it doesn_ _'_ _t bounce on the metal floor as the jeep started moving. It was the first time he could see her clearly. He never considered himself a violent man but seeing her in that state, he just wished he could kill Saleem again. Ziva was his second sister, like Sarah, how dared this bastard treat her like that? Tony reached for her hand trying not to touch the torn skin at her wrists and Tim could see he was trembling._

 _._

 _"_ _DiNozzo, McGee!_ _"_ _Gibbs said._ _"_ _In a few minutes we_ _'_ _ll board the plane to Djibouti. Get ready for it. You will hit the field hospital there, as well as Ziva._ _"_

 _Once in the plane, it was a small military cargo plane, they settled down tiredly. After some time Ziva began to stir and started to strike out wildly when the three men bent down around her. Her eyes were white and full of fear as she tried desperately to get away from them._

 _Gibbs_ _'_ _heart hurt for her. He knew she was in panic mode, couldn_ _'_ _t handle all this right now. He pulled back and gestured the boys to move away as well and they obeyed reluctantly._

 _Ziva calmed down slightly. He slowly sat down next to her nonetheless careful to keep some distance between them and started to speak calmly and reassuring._ _"_ _Ziver, it_ _'_ _s me, Gibbs. You recognize me?_ _"_

 _"_ _G_ _…_ _Gibbs_ _…"_ _Ziva stammered unbelieving, her voice raspy and looked around wildly._ _"_ _What happened? Where am I?_ _"_ _Her breathing was shallow and fast._

 _"_ _You_ _'_ _re save, Ziva. DiNozzo and McGee are here as well. We are on our way to Djibouti and then back to the States._ _"_

 _There were tears in her eyes and Gibbs wondered if from pain or relief, maybe both. Ziva rolled to her side and pushed herself in a sitting position in painfully slow movements. Then her face went blank and she pulled her legs to the body and put her arms around them._

 _It hurt him to watch. He knew it was the first indication of how she would deal with it. She would try to bury the memory deep inside, keeping it all close to herself, wouldn_ _'_ _t want to confide to anyone until it destroyed her. He promised himself he would not allow that._

 _Tony produced a water bottle from somewhere and held it out hesitantly._ _"_ _You_ _'_ _re thirsty Ziva?_ _"_

 _Ziva hand shot forward and she grasped the bottle quickly, pressed it to her body and turned away slightly as she opened it._

 _Gibbs clenched his teeth as he realized she was_ hiding _the water from them as if she feared it was a trick or they would take it away any second. She gulped it as fast as she could._

 _He wondered if they should give her something to eat. She was bony and so thin; she needed it definitely, but would she tolerate it after starvation? Maybe he should call Ducky? To ask him what to do?_

 _Ziva relieved him from deciding when she asked if they had something to eat, her voice excruciatingly thin and unsure and he could not deny her that wish. He reached into his pack and pulled out three Nutter Butters, McGee_ _'_ _s favorite treat, and passed one to each of them._

 _Again, he watched as Ziva_ _'_ _s weak fingers struggled to open it and then she started to wolf down the food but this time he intervened and carefully caught her hands._ _"_ _Slowly Ziver. Nobody will take it away from you._ _"_

 _She flinched and shot him an alarmed, skeptical look but slowed her chewing marginally. After eating half of it she stopped, suddenly looking sick. Soon she started to gag and vomit as her stomach resisted the rich food._

 _To avoid the unpleasant smell, they moved farther inside the belly of the plane, the atmosphere significantly subdued. Soon after that Ziva lost her fight against fatigue and fell asleep, curled up next to the wall under a woolen blanket._

 _The three men sat there in silence, eyes on their forlorn team member and lost in dark thoughts._

* * *

Would be great if you tell me what you think…

If you are interested, I've started another NCIS story, _Coincidence_ , also dealing with Ziva, so if you like this story check out _Coincidence_ as well!

Until next time


	7. Lia

_Thank you **BKeh** and thanks to my two **Guests**. It is great to hear from you!_

 _And to you as always, **Debbie** , I'm glad I caught their feelings :)_

 _And although I agree, watching the video feed of Ziva sleeping is kind of creepy, it also is something parents do. That's why I see the reason for Eli doing it is more out of concern, that it's his way of showing affection for her (even if not visible to others). He had her watched in D.C. as well, it is shown in "Shalom". It is his way of keeping an eye on her. But don't worry, he can't do it anymore, Ziva had destroyed the camera... For "Déjà vu" I went back some time, the team discovering Ziva's disappearance is happening at about the same time as Chapter 3 (Interrogation)._

 _The previous chapters were mostly sad and depressing for Ziva, like you noticed, because she is all alone. The chapter today contains, besides a nightmare-memory, also some comfort for her._

* * *

 _._

 **Of Homes and Families**

 **Lia**

 _She ate some of the food before she remembered the camera and went to disable it_ _–_ _by force. Then she walked around in the small room, looked for other cameras, sat down and ate some more, got up again, went for the medication, sat down again, got up_ _…_ _She felt tears forming in her eyes._

 _How she wished for someone familiar, for Tali, for Ari (the one of her childhood), for Gibbs, Abby, Tony, McGee_ _…_

 _She wished she could talk to them, to tell then she_ _'_ _s_ _–_ _well, not fine but at least alive, to hear that they miss her, maybe even saying it back_ _…_

The evening was hard. Although she had promised herself this morning: no more breakdown – and she kept the promise in front of _them_ – now she felt incredibly close to one.

Out of other options she finally went to bed, fearing the memories which were to appear in her nightmares for sure. It was so cruel. Everyone here seemed to betray here, and her own mind was no exception. And she couldn't do anything about it: She could not turn off the thoughts and the more she feared dreaming the more likely the strange lottery of memories would spit out one. Breathing exercises, a relaxing position, nothing helped, her control slipped away. And with sudden clarity she realized: that scared her the most.

Last night she had been too exhausted – knocked out, abducted, thrown in a room with her father, forced to speak about Saleem… it had all happened so fast. She vaguely remembered some kind of strange dream in the previous night, but it hadn't been nearly as horrible as right after she returned. Tonight, the situation would be definitely worse. She had thought about Somalia the whole day and her mind had finally registered the awkward predicament she was in. Tonight, the nightmares would be as bad as in the beginning.

 _I will not dream. I will not remember._ It did not help.

 _It could be a strange, eerie praying position. Rotated by 90 degrees she would be on her knees, hands folded and raised in prayer._

 _Some time ago_ _–_ _minutes? hours? Ziva has lowered her tired body carefully to the ground in the far corner of the small room. It_ _'_ _s her right side, her good side, she_ _'_ _s lying on, because being right-handed they prefer to hit her on the left. Her head rests on the cool earth, body curled up as good as she can while her ribs and back hurt as hell. Her hands are tied in front, parallel, wrist to wrist and she presses her bloody arms together to take the pressure of the cord from her torn skin. She would not choose that position, she adapted out of necessity, but she_ is _praying, wordlessly, subconsciously. Prayers, seasoned with blood._

 _It is early afternoon and unbelievable hot. Sweat is sticky all over her filthy body but thankfully her last drink was rather generous and not too long ago. How she wishes for a shower. How she wishes for pain medicine, for some friendly words_ _–_ _Mossad training kicks in:_ _'_ _careful Ziva, don_ _'_ _t let Stockholm Syndrome get you_ _'_ _and she closes her eyes._

 _How she wishes for someone who cares for her, for a rescue mission, for her father to save her, for her team_ _…_ _oh she never told them, she never spoke to any of them after she stayed in Israel. They must think she hates them all and now she will die here and can never tell them the truth, never apologize_ _…_

 _Her ears pick up the sound of heavy footsteps. She desperately hopes for them to pass her door but of course they don_ _'_ _t. They stop and the metal bar scratches, the door creaks._

 _A man comes inside, grabs her upper arms and pulls her roughly to her feet. Starvation has made her weak and disorientated and for a few seconds her vision gets black and she nearly faints as her blood circulation can_ _'_ _t catch up with being upright so fast. Additionally, her ribcage with its broken ribs and the old and new wounds on her body is suddenly extended and she whimpers involuntarily._

 _He covers her head in a black sack then grips her left arm and pushes her forward._ _"_ _Move, bitch_ _"_ _, he commands. Ziva manages two tiny steps before her legs collapse under her. He catches her and rants under his breath in Arabic. She is too tired to translate his slurred angry mumbling, but she is pretty sure he is insulting her. Then he pulls her up again, encloses her arms from behind, pressing her body to his side and starts walking out of the room while she hisses from the pain and stumbles blindly next to him._

 _He presses her down on a chair removes the sack over her head and leaves._

 _Saleem and another man sit relaxed in front of her. In a cheerful manner Saleem gestures at her and the stranger._ _"_ _Dear friend, allow me to introduce Mossad Officer Ziva David, daughter of Mossad Director Eli David and currently my guest in this humble camp._ _"_

 _The stranger_ _'_ _s eyes light up._ _"_ _You did not exaggerate brother, she is a beauty_ _–_ _or could be one, if you would spare her face._ _"_ _He smirks._

 _Ziva_ _'_ _s eyes see them and her ears hear the words, but her mind doesn_ _'_ _t register it. She sits there passively, face blank and expressionless._

 _The stranger does not like her lack of attention. Saleem registers it and puts a hand on his arm to calm him._ _"_ _Don_ _'_ _t worry brother, she_ _'_ _s daysleeping as we call it. A good slap will wake her_ _"_ _he says conspiratorial._

 _The stranger does so and the pain forces her to the present again._

 _Fear fills her, and she feels utterly weak and defenseless with her hands bound. Her body hurts intensely and for some time her erratic breathing is all that is heard in the room._

 _Finally the stranger speaks._ _"_ _Do you know who I am, girl?_ _"_

 _She slowly directs her eyes on him. There is something familiar about him, but she can_ _'_ _t catch it. Her dazed mind makes her lightheaded._ _"_ _Some other bastard who loves to kill people._ _"_

 _Saleem gets up angrily but this time it is the stranger who stops him. He chuckles_ _"_ _Saleem, my friend, your guest is quite amusing._ _"_

 _He props up his feet on a small table._ _"_ _We have not met young lady, but you must have seen pictures of me._ _"_ _It is almost as if he is insulted by her ignorance. He sighs_ _"_ _Well, I guess Mossad training is not as good as its reputation_ _…"_ _He grins at Saleem._ _"_ _You should tell her Daddy to get rid of her. She does not remember a target, that_ _'_ _s not good enough for dutiful little officers_ _…"_

 _Saleem grins as well and joins the mocking._ _"_ _Daddy dearest must know this, after all he has already forgotten her._ _"_

 _She tries to block out the words, but they still hurt. Don_ _'_ _t let it affect you Ziva, she tells herself, humiliation is just another torture tactic._

 _"_ _I_ _'_ _ll give you a hint_ _"_ _the stranger adds in a generous manner._ _"_ _Your brother._ _"_

 _Recognition hits her, and her eyes widen in shock. He is the leader of the cell in that Ari has been a mole for Mossad so many years ago. Has he betrayed them that time already? Bahari. Yasin Bahari was his name._

 _"_ _Now you remember_ _"_ _he says pleased._

 _"_ _Bahari._ _"_ _Ziva spits, hostility in her raspy voice._

 _"_ _Exactly. Surprised to see me? I heard Ari is dead. That you were with him when this American agent killed him._ _"_ _He shakes his head sadly, mocking her._ _"_ _You know, I always wonder why you Israeli think yourself better than us. All while you kill our good people, our children. And you from Mossad are worst. You let them murder your brother and after that you actually worked for his killer!_ _"_

 _Her face closes up._ _"_ _You know nothing about him._ _"_

 _Saleem grins viciously at Ziva and says_ _"_ _Yasin. What is mine is yours, brother. Stay here for some time, enjoy our hospitality. And if you need of some relief tonight_ _…"_ _he smirks at his bound prisoner_ _"_ _her cell is open for you._ _"_

 _Bahari rears his head while laughing and pats Saleem on the back._ _"_ _Thank you, brother, I will enjoy it._ _"_

 _Ziva retreats inside her mind as fast as possible._

Ziva's eyes flew open. Her hand clutched the sheets so tightly her knuckles turned white and it hurt. She desperately fought to suppress the sobs. Still the relief of being _here_ lifted the heavy burden on her heart.

The conflicting emotions dazed her. She did not want to be at Mossad and yet she was so relieved to be here, in this clean and _safe_ room.

It was still dark outside. Ziva slowly inhaled and exhaled, concentrating only on the air. After some time the emotions were buried, and she dozed for the brief rest of the night.

 **oOo**

This morning, same time as yesterday, the breakfast room hosted more people than the day before.

Coincidence or did they used the opportunity to watch her? _There are no such things as coincidences_ , she heard Gibbs saying.

Keeping her face emotionless, Ziva ignored them.

Back in her small room she soon got restless. Not able to go out, being grounded like a child – or a prisoner to be more accurate – angered and stressed her.

She paced around searching the whole room, looking for anything she could use as a weapon and scanning for bugs to keep her occupied. She did not find one, only a few books but felt too restless to sit down and read. Weapon cleaning would calm her. A short bitter laugh escaped her mouth. No way would they give her one.

 **oOo**

The door opened and Ziva who was standing at the window turned around as a woman stepped inside.

"Hello Ziva." She smiled cautiously.

"Lia." Ziva stared at her, "What are you doing here?"

She flinched almost imperceptible. "Do you want me to leave?"

"Well, ehm… no."

Lia smiled again.

"Does my father know you are here?"

She looked down. "Yes."

She squirmed upon seeing Ziva's face. "Listen… I tried it without… but your watchdog outside wouldn't let me in. So I asked him," she whispered.

Ziva couldn't help being impressed. Lia was terrified by her father, had always been, even before he became director. She was no assassin, no officer, completely out of the typical Mossad breed. She was a computer specialist, very talented and a gentle woman, sometimes timid and in almost every aspect the exact opposite of Ziva.

An unimportant accident had made them befriend each other during training and against all odds, for some time, they had been really close. They estranged as soon as Ziva's missions started to take most of her time, but they did not lose their connection.

"How are you, Ziva?"

"Did he make you take any listening devices?" Ziva asked distrustful.

"No, Ziva… I would never… betray you like that…"

Ziva allowed herself a sad smile, "you have always been out of place here."

"What is happening, Ziva? You disappeared, they said you were dead. Then you suddenly were alive again. But not here. You left Mossad? And now you are back but there are guards around and everyone says you get interrogated. For what?"

Ziva swallowed her anger. It wouldn't be fair. This was not Lia's fault.

She took a deep breath, gestured to the table and they sat down.

"My father… distrusted my loyalty to him after the years in the US. It became worse when Michael was shot – by my partner from D.C."

"I heard about that, Ziva, I'm so sorry. He was your boyfriend…"

"It is ok, Lia", she said softly, "he just used me – on behalf of my father. Tony was right to doubt him." Lia was looking at her with wide eyes.

"Tony is my partner in America" she added "I must have mentioned him in my mails?"

Lia nodded "yeah, I remember, the one who's funny and always joking? And I would be McGee, right?"

Ziva laughed. A part of her was amazed about being able to do so. However, that was the magic of Lia, had always been.

"Yeah, right, you'd be McGee", she still chuckled.

Then she turned serious again. "McGee and Abby found me, well they found the camp. They all thought I was dead. But I lived, Lia. The terrorist my father ordered me to kill took me prisoner in Somalia. I am sure the gossip here is aware of all that."

Lia was looking at her the way Gibbs would do it. She went on, skipping her time in the camp. She didn't have words for that.

"They came for me. My team." She swallowed hard, tears in the eyes. "They brought me home."

"That is a great thing. You are happy to have them." Lia said softly.

"Ziva, did they hurt you there?" she asked hesitantly.

Ziva looked up and then nodded in silence.

"That is terrible" she whispered and glanced at her friend who huddled on the chair. "Can I hug you?"

Ziva smiled, so Lia came over and enfolded her in a tender warm hug, much more carefully than Abby would do it but it felt just as good. "I'm glad you are alive."

They spent the next minutes in comfortable silence.

"I brought you this", Lia said and pulled out a… thing, consisting of metal parts, thin rope and wood.

"What is it?"

"You need to bring the wooden piece from here to the end of the rope."

Ziva took the thing in the hands, turning it around and regarding it skeptical. "It does not look like it is possible."

Lia laughed, "Believe me it is possible. Promise me not to break it if it doesn't work right away, yes? I thought you'd like to do something. It's not like these rooms offer much."

Ziva felt gratefulness waving inside. "Thank you." She really was like McGee.

"So, what do they say about me here?"

Lia hesitated, "well, there is a lot of gossip, of course. No one knows what really happened. No one has confirmed anything."

"And who's the bad guy in it?"

Lia looked at her, clearly uncomfortable, "It's not like that. Yes, some say you are not loyal anymore, that you betrayed them. They mostly blame the Americans. But they are only few. The majority is just curious, craving for the sensation. You're prominent in Mossad. The terrorists, the Americans, you surviving… you know." She shrugged her shoulders and waved her hands in a 'you can imagine-gesture'.

"Is it true your father kidnapped you to bring you here?"

Ziva snorted bitterly. "He did not do it himself, obviously, but yes. He did. First, he sent Malachi to accuse me of murdering an US citizen to accomplish my deportation and when it did not work he ordered the abduction. While knowing I do not want to see him again. I still can't believe it." The betrayal still hurt.

"Do they want you to come back working here?"

"They want information," eyes avoiding Lia's gaze, "about what the terrorists wanted and what I told them," she added quietly.

"Tell me something about you, will you?" Ziva asked after a moment, "I do not want to think about my father or Somalia or all the other crap that is happening."

Lia smiled and began her story.

* * *

 _Hope you liked it._

 _I'd be happy for some reviews!_


	8. Case study

_Thanks a lot for your reviews, **Dr. JES** , **BKeh** and **Debbie!**_

 _And don't worry, I think I Ziva's beaten down enough (and I depressed all of you because of her treatment.) Lia is a friend and no other traitor. Ziva still has friends, not only in D.C._

 _This chapter picks up Ambron's proposition from chapter 4, "Internal meeting". Debbie, I think you resented his idea especially, because they act so emotionless towards Ziva… I hope you like it :)_

* * *

.

 **Of Homes and Families**

 **Case study**

Gibbs rushed down from MTAC. A few paperpushers from downstairs hurried to move out of his way. He was furious.

"Boss?" Tony and Tim stood up. "What did he say?"

Gibbs shook his head and resignation formed on his face. "They can't do anything about it. Ziva is not an US citizen yet, she emigrated legally and is back in Israel and out of reach. Even if we could prove unmistakably that she's been kidnapped and brought there against her will, SecNav won't risk an international incident about her. After all, she is 'back with family'. They won't mess with Mossad."

Tony face darkened and he kicked the desk furiously.

Tim balled his fists, "Gibbs, we…"

Tony finished the assault of the innocent desk with one last forceful kick and interrupted him, addressing Gibbs. "You can't be serious!? Why does he knuckle under Mossad? They get away with kidnapping! And what is good about ' _back with family_ _'_? Why the hell should that be a positive thing?" He just couldn't believe it.

"Go tell it to _them_. I am perfectly aware of that." Gibbs replied almost snappish. "I gonna try calling _Director David_. Let's hope we can at least _talk_ to Ziva."

 **oOo**

The day after Lia's visit Ziva was left alone completely. She was not allowed to leave the room. It left her agitated, angry and bored at the same time for the whole day. Not knowing if she should fear or hope for someone to come was an extremely unpleasant feeling.

The day after that was different again. Around noon Malachi came and brought her to her father's office instead of the assembly room.

They were walking quietly next to each other, neither of them knowing what to say. Malachi broke the unpleasant silence before opening the office door. He put his hand on her left shoulder and looked her in the eyes for the first time. "I am sorry for everything, Ziva."

Gyran, Kilt and Ambron were standing inside waiting for her.

Sitting behind his desk her father spoke. "Ziva, we want to thank you for telling us and sharing your information. It will help to keep others save. However, Ambron has one more request regarding your training and surviving and how it can help others in the same situation. I agree with his proposal." His look was severe.

Ziva stared back without understanding. _What was that supposed to mean?_

"Elias, present your idea."

"Miss David." He waited until she looked at him. "We know you do not want to speak about your experience. Still I would like to remind you that we are not doing this to hurt you but to help others."

Ziva narrowed her eyes. It might be true, yet she felt offended by that crude attempt to manipulate her.

He continued without showing interest to her hostile reaction. "Not many people survive a captivity this long when used for gathering information and not just hold for ransom. Unfortunately, in our line of work this happens, it has before and will happen again. You know this; like all, you have been trained to face this possibility."

Ziva still glared at them hostilely. Where was that going to lead? A lecture for her not to act like she did? Because: _She had been trained for this_ _…_ Sarcasm wasn't enough to express her feelings.

Ambron was still speaking. "To improve this training, to prepare others for a similar situation we want you to share how captivity, torture and feelings affected you both during the time you spent there and after your rescue. You have a unique and authentic experience and we want to know what parts of your training did or did not help to survive or resist the questions, what methods broke you, how can we prepare others better, so they can resist longer or cope better. Have they done anything you have not learned about in training? Which aspect was the hardest? What would have helped a prisoner in your situation?"

During his continued speech Ziva's face became blank like a nondescript mask, now she turned around, so she didn't have to look at them. Instead her eyes wandered to the window to the world outside. Her mind was screaming, her posture tense, her arms crossed. She wasn't sure if it was defensively or she was just embracing herself.

"No." Dread filled her. _The whole of Mossad discussing her captivity? Analyzing the torture? Judging her behavior, her emotions? NoNoNo, never._

"We need to know…"

"You got enough! I'm sure you got your hands on the medical report as well, although NCIS has not given it out and you have not asked for my permission, it is _mine_ and…" her voice broke.

Ambron came nearer. She did not turn around but could hear it, feel it.

"Miss David… Do you think the doctor's report contains anything new to us? It is pretty clear what they did, but the facts alone do not help us – do not help _your_ fellow officers! To prepare them we need to know how it affects the prisoner in real life – and just saying 'I won't talk about it' helps no one!"

Ziva was tense as a coil spring as she tried to ignore him approaching. She would not allow him to intimidate her by threats and physical proximity like her father did some days ago.

Ambron's anger seemed to tenfold suddenly. "Don't you dare to make such a fuss about it! You think we have never seen _this_ before?" With that his hand shot forward, grasped the seam of her shirt and yanked it upward. For a split second her back with all its scars was exposed to them and then Ziva whirled around. Her knee came up and landed unerringly between his legs, simultaneous her fists connected hard with his face, drawing blood. He went down.

They were shocked. Ziva just stood there furiously, fists ready to hit again and her head raised proudly. "Don't you _dare_ touching me!" She spat. "I'm not your _property_! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!" The latter was directed at all of them.

Ambron recovered quickly. It wasn't the first beating he got but the last one was long ago. He was livid as he turned to her, wiping blood from his face.

Before he could do more than a step Director David's sharp command stilled them all.

" _Stop it._ "

He glared at them, his anger barely concealed. "Ambron. Outside! _And we will talk about this_." He waited for him to leave the room then turned to his daughter. "Ziva, please wait outside as well," he gestured to the back door.

Shock had replaced the fury and Ziva left numbly. Outside was no one so she kept walking. _Out here, out, out, OUT_! her mind screamed. A thought crossed it. There was a small back exit down the hall on the ground floor. She could…

Two guards stood at the door facing the exit. They turned around as she came nearer. Of course, they recognized her.

"Officer David, I'm not sure if you are allowed to…" He had no chance. Ziva hit him hard, he went down, and the second man suffered almost the same handling.

Both men unconscious, she left.

It was hot outside, but she was numb to all of it. Walking, just walking. Her feet moved without her doing and her thoughts were spinning. _For training purposes. They want to make a fucking case study out of her._ Finally, she reached the sea. Much calmer and more collected than before, she kept walking along it, passing the buildings, shops and people without really seeing them.

Suddenly all energy left her. There were some giant stair steps leading down to the water. She sat down on one of them, watching the Mediterranean Sea.

 **oOo**

Director David sighed once again. He was alone in his office after dismissing Kilt and his deputy.

 _Ziva_

Seeing her scars for real was different than in pictures or reading about it.

There would be some disciplinary measure for Ambron, his action was not acceptable, at least not towards his daughter. What was he thinking to undress her?

However, he was simultaneous proud and disappointed in Ziva. Proud for her fast and strong reaction, disappointed in her lack of restraint, of discipline and control. Striking a superior – or former superior as she would insist – in his office, in front of him…

He turned to the door to call her inside again.

The corridor was empty.

 _Damn it!_

He pressed the button for security. Within five seconds two men stood in front of him.

"Find my daughter. Quietly. She was outside that door ten minutes ago."

15 minutes later they stood before him again.

"Exit G was assaulted. The security personnel was knocked unconscious. The cameras confirm she left that way. I ask for your permission to call more help for the search outside."

"Four more." Eli decided. "And you keep quiet about it. If you don't find her until 3pm we will talk about more."

 **oOo**

Ziva stared at the waves and thought about her next moves. No passport, no money, nothing except her clothes. She couldn't leave the country legally. Could go into hiding, yes, maybe even make it back to D.C. somehow. But that means hiding for the rest of her life. They would track her, make it official to achieve her deportation from whatever country she sought refuge. Or kidnap her again.

Would it help to call her team? No, they cannot save her out of this, she thought miserably. They had saved her already, from a place far worse, she can't ask for another rescue. Now she needed to deal with it herself, can't always rely on them.

The opposite of hiding would be to go back. Voluntarily. _Like a beaten dog_. Apologize for running away hoping they would let her leave someday. _Don_ _'_ _t apologize_ she heard Gibbs saying.

No, she would not go back. She would not abandon all pride and crawl back to them. And apologize for what? For protecting herself, for not wanting to speak about a terrible time to people who saw her as source of information only, for not wanting to speak to her father who had made her a killer, manipulated her into Michael's mission just to abandon her on the way?

And it was _not_ the mission itself that was the problem. She had done jobs as dangerous as this before. No, it was that he ordered them – her – to go on after she was the last one standing, the others dead or severely injured. As team they would have stood a chance to accomplish the mission, alone it was suicide. Ordered by her father. An order she could not disobey.

No, she chose the third option.

She remained passive. She stayed. Right where she was. It wasn't too difficult to find her here she assumed. There probably was a full search going on already.

 **oOo**

"Director David? We found her."

"Where?"

"Sitting at the beach, about one hour by foot from headquarters."

"Make sure she's at my house at 5 pm."

 **oOo**

Ziva was right. She felt eyes on her and some time later a man was approaching. He stepped into her line of sight and watched her warily.

"Miss David, please come with us."

She knew someone was standing behind her as well. And at least two more in the surrounding area were watching.

 **oOo**

Heron Matos was a happy man.

He had found Ziva David the same day she disappeared because she had made no effort to hide. Had she done so, finding her would be nearly impossible; Kidon members were infamous to disappear without a sign. And an unsuccessful search would have slowed down his career significantly.

But no, obviously – thankfully – she did not care if being found or not. And she was not resisting. Right now, she looked at him with an inquiring, almost challenging expression but she got up and followed him silently to the car.

He knew of her reputation, so he was even happier as she continued to stay civil and did not do anything aggressive, just went into the car and out of it again after passing security at Director David's mansion.

Mission accomplished. _I need a beer_.

* * *

 _This story is slowly approaching its end. I have a pretty good idea how I will end it but if you have a wish of what you would like to happen, you can tell me. If it fits to my ideas, maybe I'll include it..._

 _Looking forward to your reviews :)_

 _._


	9. Advice of a friend

_Thanks_ _ **Debbie**_ _! Your compliments are always so nice :) Yes, I thought it is time to show her fighting spirit again. After all she just got supported by Lia and anyway, I never thought her to be one who quietly accepts her fate without fighting it. A talk between Ziva and Eli will happen, but you have to wait for the next chapter, today Eli is talking to someone else…_

 _Hi_ _ **BKeh**_ _, I don't want to spoiler you, so I won't answer your question. However, at the end of that chapter you might know what will happen… today someone is giving Eli a different perspective._

* * *

.

 **Of Homes and Families**

 **Advice of a friend**

The watch displayed exactly 5pm.

Eli stood at the window, looking down to the courtyard. A car pulled up. A man got out on the passenger side and opened the door in the back. Two seconds later, dark curly hair appeared as Ziva climbed out slowly. Her head was slightly bowed as she turned it deliberately, taking in the familiar surroundings. _Looking for another escape_ , Eli assumed disparagingly until she raised her head to the house and to him standing there. That moment he realized that she was not planning anything. Her face was empty, void of her usual determination.

She averted the gaze and watched the car leaving again.

 **oOo**

 _Back again_. Back to this house, where she spent so many years of her childhood. The trees were a bit higher and the front of the house was newly painted but otherwise nothing had changed.

 **oOo**

Eli David watched his daughter. Two days ago, his men had brought Ziva back to his home after she had left unauthorized.

She looked tired. Didn't eat much and spoke even less, the days she wandered around in the house or sat motionless somewhere. At night she suffered from nightmares. Sometimes it woke him as well or he heard it while working late. It was always short, some screamed incomprehensible words or whimpers, then silence. No crying - at least not audible.

He thought about allowing her friend another visit. Young, soft Lia had nervously asked for it three times in the last days.

 **oOo**

In his office at Mossad, Eli David refilled the teacups and looked over to his former mentor and live-long friend Ruben enjoying his second cup of tea.

Ruben had retired years ago but he still was an important person in Mossad and showed up from time to time to look after his protégé and the agency. He was the only one Eli had showed at least some grief after Ziva's disappearance in Somalia because he trusted Ruben like no one else.

His daughter was the topic of today's meeting as well.

"You have seen the recordings?"

Ruben nodded, he had received the videos of the questionings the day before "What do you want from me, Eli?"

"I need your advice, Ruben. What shall I do? With Ziva I mean."

Ruben raised his eyebrows, "what do your dear colleges say?"

"Schimon thinks her too weak and broken to be of any use, Kilt thinks with some rigor and enough training she can recover and Ambron… Ambron would rather like to hurt her back for attacking him, so no serious opinion from him available."

"Ok, Eli", Ruben said, "I can give you an objective view of the events, unaffected by your own feelings or clouded by a humiliating defeat – but remember I know her even less than you do. Being her father, you _should_ know her enough to answer your question. However, we both know that does not hold true, at least not since she is out of childhood."

The mild reproach did not go unnoticed and Eli shifted uncomfortably.

"First things first. Working for Mossad is no child's play, but I don't need to tell you that. As I see it, a desk job is definitively possible if you don't feel that is a waste of talent. For the field… She seems to be emotionally unstable and if you consider reinstating her, it will probably not be safe to send her to every kind of missions especially ones containing triggers like violent men or even a location like a desert. At least I assume these are triggers. There might be others. She reacted strongly to every mention of Ulman, her _interrogation_ there – you noticed the similarities between then and now, didn't you, Eli? Detained, questioned, control taken away. Don't be surprised she is resisting. However, back to the topic, you asked me if you can reinstate her, but I think you should think first if you really want this. People will use her failure and every further mistake against you. You need to be very careful. Both of you will be under constant observation."

Eli nodded. "I am aware of this. There is a risk she might screw up a mission and they will blame me. Yet she is very good in the job – she was… I do not know if she still is."

"If you give her enough time she might be valuable again for Mossad, on missions… or she might turn on you and choose you as enemy like your son did before. That is a possibility depending on how you treat her from now on. Do not make the same mistake as with Ari." His look was severe. "And there is another huge problem which I think you are neglecting completely: She resigned. Meaning she does not want to work for Mossad anymore. Have you even thought about that? How do you plan to force her working?"

Ruben sat down his teacup. "You can't force her, so you need to convince her. For that you need her to trust you. And that door is almost closed. Watch this."

He opened his laptop, searching for a file. A video opened, and Eli recognized it immediately. It was of Ziva alone in the assembly room before they joined her the first day. She was pacing.

"You see her face? She is angry and confused. She does not know yet what you want of her. And all her emotions sum up to a huge feeling of betrayal. After all she was just accused of murder in front of her American friends and then kidnapped a week later – all orchestrated by her father…"

Ruben fast-forwarded the video to the scene of Ambron asking her about Ulman the first time. "Here she is afraid – and ashamed." He opened another video. "And here she hates you." It was from after he turned down her demand to speak to the Americans and forced her to answer to their question about facial recognition.

"I do not say she is right and you are wrong but keep pushing her and she might snap. It would be dangerous for you. Do not make her your enemy. Ziva was rescued by NCIS, _not Mossad_ and she has not reconciled with you. In contrast, she was abandoned by us and now you had her abducted for a forced return and submitted her to an emotional painful questioning. In her point of view that is utmost betrayal and nothing else." Ruben held up his hands to pacify Eli. "I know why you did it and I understand it. However, _you_ must understand that your daughter thinks differently about this. It is a justifiable opinion as well, just from another one's view."

Eli looked defensively but Ruben could also see he was thinking about it. He shifted his old bones. "You had two goals: Firstly, to get information as fast as possible in order to protect Mossad and secondly to separate her from her American team to have her back as an officer and/or as daughter? Correct me if I am mistaken. To achieve the first goal, you pressed hard and succeeded but you may have excluded the second goal. You have cornered her, back to the wall and you made her fight a highly unfair four-against-one fight, one in which you had all the power and she nothing but anger, shame and betrayal meanwhile resistance proved to be mostly in vain."

"Would you have done it differently?" Eli asked.

"For achieving the first goal? No. It was successful and protecting Mossad and Israel is our ultimate duty. But you asked me what to do with her now. Have you asked her what _she_ wants?"

Eli's face darkened. "Returning to America although she did not vocalize it. She demanded to speak to them."

"Yes, I have seen it. That was one of your mistakes, you should have let her. It was petty of you to deny her that. It would not have 'distracted' her but rather _you_ , Eli. You let your hate for this Agent Gibbs cloud your judgment. Your pride is wounded by the fact that they care for Ziva and Ziva cares for them. A phone call would have calmed and reassured her, and it might even lead to her talking more willingly. It would have made things easier for you as well. Don't tell me you enjoyed forcing her."

"Of course not!" Eli exclaimed indignantly, "What do you think of me?"

"Then tell me, Eli, what did you fear that you would not let her phone them?" It was a rhetorical question and he leant back picking up his tea cup.

"What do you think of the case study?" Eli asked, changing the topic. He could accept a rebuke by Ruben but did not like to dwell on it.

Ruben sipped his tea. "It is a good idea," he started slowly, "nice to see Ambron is using his brain from time to time. We could gain a lot from it. If another officer has the misfortune to end up in the same abhorrent situation he or she will be better prepared and able to cope, and preparation is the essence to keeping a clear head and fighting back. However, Ziva is unwilling and frankly spoken, I can understand that. I would not want information of that kind of _me_ to be discussed, picked apart and analyzed by every officer and student in here. And all benefits put aside: you, Eli, should think about if you really want this for your girl."

 _Debbie and BKeh and all the other who have reviewed are so great and you are a huge motivation for me. Thanks a lot!_

 _I'm sure there are more of you, reading quietly. Perhaps you would like to leave some words as well...?_

* * *

 _Debbie and BKeh and all the other who have reviewed are so great and you are a huge motivation for me. Thanks a lot!  
_

 _I'm sure there are more of you, reading quietly. Perhaps you would like to leave some words as well...?_


	10. Accusations and talking

_Danke_ _ **Gasthrer**_ _, freut mich sehr dass es dir gef_ _ä_ _llt. Und ja, die Geschichte ist keine leichte Kost aber es ist eine wunderbare Art die Ziva-Eli-Beziehung zu beschreiben..._

 _Thanks_ _ **BKeh, Debbie, Hetwaszoietsals, spicyanemones**_ _and_ _ **Guest**_ _, I_ _'_ _m so happy you like it and reading your nice words always makes me smile. I hope I can live up to your wishes and expectations._

 _And because I reject Gibbs_ _'_ _rule #6 (a stupid one as I see it, seriously, apologizing is not a weakness): I am very sorry you had to wait so long for this chapter._

* * *

.

 **Of Homes and Families**

 **Accusations and talking**

Ziva sat in the garden in the shade of a fig tree. Lia's present lay in front of her and she smiled at the sight of it. She had solved it the day before. Knowing the trick, it was easy.

Her hands stroked over the dry grass. Back and forth. The house was full of ghosts. Her mother but mostly Ari and Tali. Her father had changed nothing in their rooms nor the interior decorations or furnishings.

Ziva spend much time in Tali's room. She sat on the bed looked at the ceiling decorated with stars, at the posters of long forgotten boy groups and pictures of her friends and some of Ziva and Ari as well. Their father appeared in one picture, holding Tali as an infant. Ziva herself had made that shot although she didn't remember it. Her mother had told her. Apparently, she had been excited about the camera that day and wanted to use it on her new sister. It had been an old camera, big and heavy almost too big for the small girl. The picture was tilted but Tali had loved it.

 **oOo**

Ari's room was more difficult to visit than Tali's. At first, she just stood in the door and hesitated to continue. It took some time until she dared going inside. She had killed him. Her big brother. Her protector from childhood. She had shot him without giving him a chance to explain it to her. Yes, she overheard him talking to Gibbs and it was obvious how much he had turned into a monster, into a murderer who killed an innocent woman in cold blood to hurt Gibbs… Still, before the confrontation they had spoken on the phone and she had told him she was afraid of losing him as well and that had been absolutely true. And then, the next time… she shot him. What kind of sister does this?

What kind of family were they? Mother died too early, sister killed by suicide bomber, brother shot by second sister, father put work before family…

Yes, her father… Deputy Director Gyran had been here twice. They had locked themselves in Eli's office and after about two hours they'd sent for Ziva and stared her down for another hour. She still refused their request. She would not tell them details of the time in the camp.

 **oOo**

One night she sat at the couch in the huge living room staring through the window to the illuminated terrace. She hadn't touched her dinner, hadn't been hungry. Her father came inside the room and sat down opposite of her on another couch.

"Ziva."

She turned her head slowly and looked at him.

"Why do you make it so hard? Do you think I like seeing you like this?" He genuinely sounded tired.

His declaration made her blood boil instantly. She was the one to blame, behaving irrationally? And even if, he had no right to lecture her about it. Not as long as he was dictating her life.

" _I_ make it hard!? You're the one…" she shook her head.

All the spiraling thoughts she had hold inside the last days were tumbling out suddenly. "You _know_ I do not want to be here. You hold me here. Request information about _him_. Act like I betrayed you. Send Malachi to burn me. To kidnap me. What did you expect? That I dance around in the house?" Her sarcasm was like acid.

"Certainly not. However, the way I operate is not yours to question."

"You had me kidnapped," Ziva hissed.

"It was the only way to ensure your cooperation." Eli didn't seem to be overly regretful.

"You could have _asked_."

"I did," Eli replied. "You refused to answer."

"You never said it was official. I just refused to let you use Director Vance's authority to force me to a private talk." Ziva's eyes were still narrowed in anger. "You could have submitted an official request to NCIS for my statement. Or if you do not trust me to write down everything, come yourself or send someone to talk to me _. In Washington_."

"We decided it would be best to have you here," Eli said, matter-of-factly. "Be grateful that I was able to grant you some time there to recover. _Others_ wanted you here immediately."

Ziva snorted. "Be grateful…" she copied him derogatively. "Anything else I should be _grateful_ for? For sending Michael? For entrusting me to the Somalia mission? _For forgetting me there_?"

"Why do you act so betrayed, Ziva? You knew from the beginning it was a dangerous mission. You knew what happened if you failed."

For a moment Ziva did not know what to answer. Technically he was right, but his logic was twisted.

"You talked to Malachi. You knew we were the only ones left. He was injured. And still you ordered us to go on. Were you afraid of losing countenance if stopping the mission? Whose idea was it anyway? It was prepared wretchedly. Whose _brilliant_ idea was it to go there by ship? The same ship smuggling for the same terrorist we were supposed to find? What about going in nicely by plane from some unsuspicious place and waiting for the courier? Did you _want_ us to fail?"

Eli was quite content with himself for making her talk again, even if her accusations were unfounded and he felt increasingly irritated by them. However, he would not stop her. At least she was talking again.

Ziva turned her head away and continued. "I knew you would not come. But I hoped for it so long. One night there was gunfire outside and I really thought… but no, of course not…"

He watched her closing her eyes briefly before she looked to the terrace again, breathing deeply and regularly.

"You knew why I did what I did, Ziva. There was a time you agreed with it."

"Guess the fact of you forgetting me in a terrorist camp changed some things," Ziva answered hotly. "Do you have any idea how it had been? Do you know how it is to sit – or lie there, waiting for them to come the next time? To know they can do _absolutely everything_ to you, without anyone stopping them?" Her eyes were fire, but they changed to a resigned expression rather quickly.

"No, you do not know anything." She concluded quietly.

Eli waited patiently while Ziva stayed silent for several minutes. He used the time to watch her.

Besides her subdued posture – crouched, hugging her legs – she _looked_ the same. Nothing gave away her ordeal. Face and arms were free of obvious scars. He knew the lowest burn on her arms was located on her upper left arm, hidden by the sleeve. Even her hair was as before. Secretly he wondered why they had let it be. They humiliated her in so many ways so why not shaving her? Robbing her of even more dignity, robbing her of the veil she could use to hide from the world? Maybe, he thought, it was just too convenient for them. Hair was an excellent tool to hold someone, for turning the head.

"They thought me dead, did you know that?" Ziva finally said while still looking outside.

He did not understand the sentence. Who thought her dead?

"But they came to stop him, to avenge me, even if thinking I died long before reaching his camp."

Of course. The Americans again. _The angels in white_.

"They made me go to a hospital and stay there. But they visited every day until I could leave. You did not come. You did not even call." Was it hurt in her voice? Eli lowered his head slightly. She was right. He had not known what to say to her, so he had not called at all.

"You did not come. No, instead you sent _Malachi_." She said sharply, hugging her pulled up legs tighter. "You are just like him."

"Like Ben-Gidon?" Eli asked slightly amused. _Why would she think that?_

"No. Like _him_."

"You are speaking of Ulman." Eli stated. That comparison made his anger blaze up, but he managed to control his voice.

"Of course I am!" Ziva exclaimed, looking back to him briefly. After a few seconds she continued to speak, head downcast. "You only care about the job. Ignorant, power misusing and not respecting others. The only difference is you are working for different goals. And you are not physically attacking. You have others to do that for you."

"I certainly do not agree with that comparison, Ziva," Eli said severely. "I know you spoke in anger. However, I do not fail to notice your strong dislike of the situation here."

"You have no right to keep me here."

"Yes I do, Ziva. You are part of an investigation and it is not closed yet."

Ziva turned back to him. "So why am I here and not at headquarters?" She spat. "You keep me here like a disobedient child. But I am an adult. I make my own decisions. And I do not want to be here and certainly I do not want to be a _case study_!"

"I know, Ziva," Eli sighted, "but you will be one, whether you like it or not. Inofficial for sure. Rookies will ask, instructors will use it as an example. Without proper confirmation the story will soon be far from the truth. Think of all the benefits if it is official…"

"No!" Ziva interrupted, eyes blazing.

He would never admit it, but he was almost relieved about her continuous resistance to Ambron's proposition. His usurpers were waiting. Add this damn case study and the ongoing conversation about it and the whole Ziva-Somalia-incident would blow up in his face eventually. Without confirmation it would just be… gossip. Far from the truth and therefore unprofessional. Easy to dismiss. Not suitable for blackmailing. No, he would – could – not admit his relief but willingly or not Ziva's stubbornness protected him as well. Of course, officially he needed to be displeased. They all had their act to play.

"Oh, Ziva. Your mother was as stubborn as you."

Ziva kept her face turned away yet suddenly attentive to his words, no doubt exactly what Eli wanted to achieve. _Her mother_. The magic words.

"When Rivka had set her mind, nobody could stop her." Eli seemed nostalgic and his eyes flickered to the picture frames on the sideboard.

"Is there any chance of you staying with Mossad, Ziva?"

Ziva looked up to him and he could see the answer in her eyes. "I want to go back. Please, Papa."

Eli sighed deeply. _You can_ _'_ _t force her_ and _Don_ _'_ _t make her your enemy._ Maybe Ruben had a point.

"Okay, Zivaleh."

* * *

 _Epilog is coming soon…_

 _Please review_


	11. Epilog

_**Debbie** and **BKeh,** you're the best! Thank you so much for your constant reviews, I got a lot of motivation from it! Unfortunately, today's the time for the last chapter.  
_

 _Thank you all for reading and reviewing!_

* * *

 **Of Homes and Families**

 **Epilog**

In the bullpen the atmosphere was tense. Gibbs and McGee had followed hints about a double murder of a Petty Officer and a FBI agent the day before. Their connection was not clear to them yet, but FBI was not willing to reveal anything and demanded exclusion of NCIS and full jurisdiction in the investigation. Gibbs had pissed of some FBI agents because he did not back down when they got in their way at the crime scene and these agents had complained to their superior, resulting in numerous calls to Vance and Gibbs himself.

Now Gibbs phone ringed again and he picked it from his jacket angrily. "I swear, if this moron calls _again_ …" On the display a familiar name blinked. "It's Ziva!" he called out to McGee and DiNozzo.

Instantly they were right at his desk.

Gibbs accepted the call. "Ziva?"

 _Hello Gibbs_.

Gibbs started to speak but Tony chimed in "Ziva! You're ok?"

 _Hi Tony. Yes, I am fine_. They could almost hear her smile, she knew of their exasperation because of that familiar statement.

"You don't know what's going on here since you're gone. I need you back ASAP Ziva! I need my favorite Probie and pranking McInattentive isn't half as funny without you. And don't mention Gibbs, he is worse than ever!" Tony cried out in mock desperation in order to keep Ziva laughing.

 _I can imagine._ Ziva's dry voice answered _. Is McGee there as well?_

"I'm here. Thank God you are calling." McGee said, still relieved. He couldn't remember even one prank recently…

 _Just got back my phone_.

"He is listening? Gibbs decided to take back control.

 _No. I am alone. However, this is hardly a secure line._

"What's going on, Ziver? What do they want from you?"

There was a moment of silence. Then, quietly: _Information about Saleem._

His suspicion confirmed Gibbs snorted derogatorily. "He couldn't just ask nicely for it."

A short, bitter chuckle answered him. _Obviously not. The play must always go by his rules._

"And now? You got _permission_ to phone, are they finished?" Gibbs voice was acid.

 _I believe they are. I am coming home tomorrow, Gibbs_.

 **oOo**

Ziva stepped out of the airplane and followed the other passengers to immigration. She tried to suppress her tension as she waited in the long line before the counters for 'Internationals'. She feared that part, what if they wouldn't accept her visa, her passport, what if her father had changed his mind and she came here in vain… What if they forced her to fly back? Could she ask for asylum?

It took a load off her mind when a bored border official registered her papers, hardly even looking at her. He asked a few half-hearted questions and then stamped her passport and allowed her in.

Having only her NCIS rucksack she passed the baggage claim area in no time and was one of the first to go outside. As soon as she stepped through the large door to the arrival hall she heard an exited scream and then Abby rushed towards her and pulled her in the strongest hug she ever had. Then the rest of the team – all of them, even Ducky and Jimmy – came and gathered around her.

A wide smile formed on her face and she felt so happy to see them.

They hugged and touched her, Gibbs kissed her hair in fatherly embrace while Abby fought to continue the bone crushing hug, Tony didn't look away from her and they all chattered and laughed happily.

She almost wished her father could see this, could see how a loving family should be before she remembered that one of the bystanders was certainly in service of Mossad and ordered to watch them.

Eli David would undoubtedly receive prime footage of her arrival.

.

 _It's been a long time since I've been home_  
 _and I hope I am nearly there_  
 _no matter how far you are, they say_  
 _Home knows no race, no distance_  
 _home is fair_

 _Home is at the end of war_  
 _Home is in the peaceful sun_  
 _Home is in the mornings breeze_  
 _Home is where it all began_

 _Home is as unique as man_  
 _Beyond color and beyond dime_  
 _so Similar in different ways_  
 _beyond brick and beyond time_

 _Home is in a lover's arms_  
 _Home is in between those doors_  
 _Home is in a child's laughter_  
 _Home is where you make it yours_

From _: I Am Coming Home_ by Ayesha Sartawi


End file.
